Getting down from the roof of a building is not fun. I'm sure there was supposed to be a ladder going down to the fire escape. Finding the spot where it had once been bolted in place justified the belief, but did nothing to create a way down that didn't involve landing on a dubious metal balcony in a concrete chasm.

Still, my cellphone didn't seem to be able to get 911 on the horn. So... jump, attract attention, or try to break into the stairwell without any tools. Last I checked, my fingernails don't hold up against steel. And attracting a rescue would involve someone asking how I got up here. Yeah, raving about a hole in the sky dropping me here might get me on a talkshow, but only after a holding cell of some sort.

Basic fire safety, if you have to drop, lower yourself, hang by the arms... and pretend it's not going to hurt.

*clang*... *creak* Creak? Did this just creak? *crack* Oh... shiiiit.

The building started backing away from the inevitable accident. The one across the alley decided to come over to give me a hug. Some primitive tree-climbing instinct sent me scurrying for the ladder, and wrapping my limbs in the bars. The railing struck the far building, and bent in the space I had been standing. This didn't last long, before the whole mess started to... slide.

I realized the fire escape had peeled away from its building. I realized it was now falling... kinda slowly. And loudly, with a sparking, screeching sound like a woman stepping in battery acid. No, that was me. The metal jungle gym was going for an iron version of fingernails on a chalkboard. I held on, afraid to let go and have the whole mess crush me. It leaned, groaned... and I shut my eyes, trying to keep my grip as the mess slammed into a window, and twisted, before sliding again.

Of course, when my perch came to a stop, it had landed partially in the road. I opened my eyes to see a semi... honking, and practically close enough to touch. I let go of the ladder, falling a foot, banging my knee, and running for the sidewalk. As I looked back, I realized the semi was stopped. It went around my inadvertent roadblock, and the driver gave me a very enthusiastically rude gesture.

As the adrenaline had a chance to wear off, I realized something else. "Shit... I'm alive!" I decided to tell a fellow in a suit who had seen the whole thing. "I'm alive!" and he didn't quite share my smile. He did smile and nod before backing away slowly. Stuntman antics and exclamations of existance don't really go a long way in establishing one's sanity, I guess.

The collapsed fire escape then emitted a very loud CLANG! and shifted a foot. It did not turn out to be an inattentive driver. A man in... I can only describe it as drab ruddy spandex was lying flat on the sidewalk, clutching a sack. A woman in some form of harness and worn combat armor... form-fitting if not entirely flattering... emerged in hot pursuit, bearing... a bent stick? No, a bow. She paused at the sight of the man, the iron wreckage... and me, walking over, waving.

She spat, and said something like, "Tu, mordith. Ka elka domrith?"

I blinked. "Um. What? I'm sorry about the fire escape. It fell."

"Du queth? Raw eel melbert."

"Ah, shit. How can... um. Oh!" I dug out my wallet, and pulled my ID.

The woman snatched it, and studied it. She arched an eyebrow. "Des merleg farlo. Du... um. Desk breath." She tapped something at her ear, and spoke very quickly. After a bit, she nodded. She pointed at my chest, and then two fingers walking along her arm, and then pointed at her chest.

I shrugged and nodded. Took back my ID, then gestured at the fellow on the ground. She grinned, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from... somewhere. I could see that there were a number of little pockets on her outfit. Handy.

Wait, if she has handcuffs... one of these two was probably a criminal of some sort. Had to be the guy. If she just wanted to rob him, he was already about as unconscious as you can get. So, he had to have been running full tilt, away from her...

And then he opened his eyes, and, seeing her, sat bolt upright, and jumped over the metal mess in the road. The woman started after. I... could have stayed put. But you don't get help from people who you don't do anything for. It could mean the difference between being dropped off with the local authorities and making a friend who could help me find a safe place to stay. Following also meant I didn't get left behind.

I couldn't believe how far that guy'd gone before we'd even gotten through the improv fence. Didn't seem hard to gain ground though. Traffic slowed nicely, nice to know there's good drivers in... wherever I was.